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January 27, 2021, 12:26:04 PM
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Author Topic: Written Anything Lately?  (Read 41284 times)
ER
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The sleep of reasoner breeds monsters.


« Reply #135 on: January 27, 2020, 12:58:15 AM »


It takes courage to be a writer and share something you've written, it really does, because you can get hurt that way, and once you share something, it's not longer just yours, but it also be nice when you get a genuine compliment that shows someone else got it and was touched by your words. (Occasional money ain't bad either.)

It terrifies me to this day each and every time to share something I've written. It probably still scares me as much as it did the first time I did that in 1995 when I was sixteen and trying very hard to be older than my years.

I was at this open mic night at a place in a college town where cool kids hung out----I was definitely not one of those---and the person I was there with had talked me into going up on stage and reciting a poem I'd written, and he said don't be scared, I do it all the time.

Well that didn't help much since I thought he walked on water anyway.

He went first and did a killer job of it, college girls were always wanting to be all over him and a couple seemed to really like his poem.

Great....

I was supposed to go up on stage about two people after him, and I was shaking. Playing tennis in front of a crowd never bothered me but reciting an original poem did, and he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Did you know that Jim Morrison was so shy on stage at first he used to sing at the Whisky A Go Go with his back to the audience?"

I said, "I can't do my poem with my back turned to everybody."

He went, "Why, not, I've always liked that view of you."

Well that earned one of my uncontrolled nervous laughing spells and after that I was okay and went up on stage and recited my poem, and to my amazement people clapped for me, and I was glad I did it.

(I also later saw someone there who may have been the devil or Desire, but that's another story...)

Point is, when the chance arises, go for it, and you'll probably do just fine.  Smile
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Das was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich noch merkwürdiger. (What does not kill me makes me stranger.)
pennywise37
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« Reply #136 on: February 04, 2020, 11:06:23 PM »

i'm glad you did man, it must be a woman lol.  for me i'd never get on a stage to do that and it's  not because i'm afraid of being booed i just don't like that kind of attention on me that's all.

here's one i wrote 1-30-20 called: Mind over Matter

Sometimes when the stars align with each other
Two People Find each other & connect
Their hearts align with each other

Their Souls Connect to one another
Their love connects to one another for each other

Their Minds Connect
Their thoughts connect to one another as if it's the same thoughts each other has
Sometimes even their wavelengths match
Their Love for one another becomes one
----------------------------------------


a decent one but not one of my favorites

here's one i wrote yesterday when i could not fall asleep hence the title and the subject lol
it's called: Waiting For Sleep dated  2-3-20

Here i am waiting
waiting to fall back asleep
waiting for sleep to overtake me

So i can dream of a world far different than the one i'm in
This world which chews  people up and spits them back out again
a world that kicks you when you are down &  continues until there's nothing left

when you dream you never know what you are gonna get
it's a lot like being awake you never can see what's ahead
you  never can see the future only the past
--------------------------------------------------

how ya like these?
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ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Karma: 1228
Posts: 8497


The sleep of reasoner breeds monsters.


« Reply #137 on: February 05, 2020, 11:14:57 AM »

i'm glad you did man, it must be a woman lol.  for me i'd never get on a stage to do that and it's  not because i'm afraid of being booed i just don't like that kind of attention on me that's all.

here's one i wrote 1-30-20 called: Mind over Matter

Sometimes when the stars align with each other
Two People Find each other & connect
Their hearts align with each other

Their Souls Connect to one another
Their love connects to one another for each other

Their Minds Connect
Their thoughts connect to one another as if it's the same thoughts each other has
Sometimes even their wavelengths match
Their Love for one another becomes one
----------------------------------------


a decent one but not one of my favorites

here's one i wrote yesterday when i could not fall asleep hence the title and the subject lol
it's called: Waiting For Sleep dated  2-3-20

Here i am waiting
waiting to fall back asleep
waiting for sleep to overtake me

So i can dream of a world far different than the one i'm in
This world which chews  people up and spits them back out again
a world that kicks you when you are down &  continues until there's nothing left

when you dream you never know what you are gonna get
it's a lot like being awake you never can see what's ahead
you  never can see the future only the past
--------------------------------------------------

how ya like these?

The way you skillfully repeat words actually works well in those. You can use that in poetry to build up a rhythm that you can't in prose.
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Das was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich noch merkwürdiger. (What does not kill me makes me stranger.)
pennywise37
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Karma: 37
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« Reply #138 on: February 05, 2020, 03:23:45 PM »

thank you, i try not to do the repeat this or that but i just go whatever i feel well comes to me, sometimes i say something and than i want to add it again in the same poem depending on the poem and where it's put so instead of doing that a i change it a bit.

here's one i wrote the other day and it's from 2-2-20  i have no title for it yet i asked a friend and they say i should call it Some Say but i dunno maybe a 2nd opinion can make me make it that. i don't mind asking people that cause it's not changing the poem at all.

anyways here it is:

Some Say  life is s**t when you look at it
Some say love fits you like a glove
some say patience is a virtue

but i have nothing unless i have you
Unless i have your love
unless i have your hope
unless i have your embrace
unless i have your kiss

But i have  nothing if i can't have you
---------------------------------

what do ya think?  here's where i got the 1st sentence Monty Python's  Always look on the bright side of life.
and than i felt like just being goofy and adding humor to it too, than at some point it hit me that if i keep doing it like that the poem not only can be quite long but than i would have to come up with something else to say instead of just joking around.

there's a couple that to me do sound like songs, there's one i forget which one it is that a friend at work says to me it reminded him of The Byrds Turn Turn Turn or was it called Turn of the season? i forget which.  to have someone say that about one of my favorite songs made my day
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pennywise37
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« Reply #139 on: February 15, 2020, 08:47:03 PM »

i just wrote this one today, though i was a bit depressed while i wrote it i'm not gonna lie about my state of mind. i've also been watching the twilght zone lately the Classic one withe Rod Serling so it was what gave me the idea of a good or a decent poem i'm not really sure which to be honest. anyways here it is

"Inside The Twilight Zone"  date 2-15-20 

Sometimes the world feels like it's in the twilight zone
sometimes  my life feels like it too with Rod Serling Serving as the Narrator
The Narrator of my life & everyone else's for that matter & over every aspect of the world too

The world at times feels like it sometimes & looks like an old Twilight zone episode
devoid of color
devoid of sound
devoid of Texture and of soul

Where every Character is in search of an exit
an exit to a better world and an exit to a better life than the one given to them
thrust upon them by fate or by circumstances that they have no control of
by measure or by means
-----------------------------------------
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Alex
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« Reply #140 on: March 07, 2020, 01:47:58 PM »

This one is an indirect sequel to Cold Water. It doesn't have any shared characters or locations, although it is set nearby and in the same world.



Cold Earth.
By Alex Corbett.  
The crew.
Anthony Weitz – PA/Bodyguard to Craig.
Barri Martynsson – Chef.
William ‘Bill’ Martins (no relation) – IT Guru.
Craig 'Beanpole' Bean – Multi-millionaire tech entrepreneur.
Jock Wattie – Building Contractor.
Melanie ‘Mel’ Gordon – Structural Engineer.
Phil Logan – Architect.
Alan ‘Cliffy’ Clifford – Foreman.
Joseph ‘Joe’ Strafford  – Labourer.
Kevin ‘Kev’ McAlly – Labourer.

The night was still and deep. A full moon cast its pale light over an abandoned castle at the side of a loch. Occasionally the dark finger of a cloud drifted in front of the moon. Waters that even in the middle of summer held an icy chill lapped calmly at the steep, pebbled shore and around the old stone jetty that stuck out into the water like a lone tooth in the skull of a dead man. A slight breeze made its way over the water and through the gaping holes in the stone walls. The castle had been uninhabited for four hundred years now, and almost every night since its last human lord died, this had been the scene. Few birds or other animals called this desolate and almost forgotten place home, although there were insects aplenty including that most infamous inhabitant of the highlands, the Midges.
The wind blew over the surface of the water, touching it like a gentle lovers kiss and stirring it only a little. It was as if here in this place the world slept and life as we knew it had never touched this place.
                So, it had been for ages, and if anyone had been standing there watching they might have assumed that it would have remained so for untold ages to come. The last stone could have fallen and crumbled, leaving no sign that there had ever been the hand of man on this place, or so it felt. Mankind had spread across the globe like a virulent plague and yet here in this forlorn corner in centuries to come he might never have existed, safe for this once magnificent ruin.  
And yet where man treads once others are wont to follow. Rare indeed is the place visited by one.


TUESDAY.
Phil.
An ungodly scream rent the night, tearing aside its silent veil. One could not tell if the throat that made the noise was male or female, or indeed if the screamer was even human. It was the kind of noise that one might suppose would be made if someone were to be hung upside down and slowly sawed in half. It went on and on, undulating and enough to chill the blood of any listener. Indeed, it is easy to suppose that any listener would flee in absolute terror least whatever gory fate had met the screamer take them too. Instead, though, a lone voice called out in fierce anger “CRAIG! IT IS TWO O’CLOCK IN THE DAMN MORNING, PUT THOSE BLOODY BAGPIPES AWAY!”  
 At breakfast, later that morning, Anthony (always Anthony, never Tony or heaven forbid, Ant), had not improved his mood any. “Craig, what the f**king hell? I know you want to be an authentic lord of the manor, but do you really have to practice playing bagpipes at that time in the morning?”
 Craig sat at the wooden park table, tucking into a platter of meat. A sly smile played on his wolfish face as Anthony complained. It wasn’t out unusual for Craig to do something like that just to wind other people up. I remembered that habit from our childhood. It got him more than one beating.
I’d known both men from high school, where Craig had been a nerd. Well, not just a nerd, he was THE nerd. Anthony, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school swim team. The pair had never been friends. In fact, Anthony had been the school bully and had made Scott’s life miserable. After school had finished Anthony had gone off to college and Scott had started his own business. By the time Anthony failed his course and dropped out, Scott was already well on the way to becoming a dot com millionaire in those heady days of the early ’90s before that bubble burst. And when it did burst, Scott had already sold his first company for an eye-watering sum of money to some search engine company. You’d recognise the name if I told you. He waited for the market to recover, then started up another new business and had gone from strength to strength. Anthony meanwhile had returned home in disgrace. Various rumours swam around him, that’d he’d sexually assaulted some freshman girl, or that he’d been caught dealing drugs. Whatever the truth was, by the time he bumped into Scott again, he was steadily crawling into a bottle, working his way to becoming an alcoholic. Scott had picked him up, offered him a job, got him cleaned up and turned his life around. He now served as Craig’s PA cum bodyguard and if he ever felt any resentment to him for their school days, he never showed it.
Me? Well, I’d lost touch with both men and was getting on with my own job. Of course, I'd seen Scott mentioned in the news and perhaps even felt a little jealous of his runaway success. I’d studied hard, picked up a degree and was struggling to make a moderately successful living as an architect. Indeed, it was in my professional capacity that Craig had looked me out. He’d picked up an interest in genealogy and had his family line traced back. Some of his ancestors had apparently been Scottish noblemen who had lived in this here castle. Calling it a castle in my view was being generous. Truth is, it was a good storm away from the whole thing blowing down, but Craig wanted the place rebuilt. This pile had long been forgotten about and had escaped becoming a listed building, so he had a more or less free hand in rebuilding it. My enquires to the local council, a far off and distant body to us, had been met with a polite disinterest as if they had no real care for what happened to a long-forgotten pile of rubble. I was given a name and address to submit my finalised plans to and sent off on my way. I had the distinct impression should I not submit my construction plans, no one would really have cared. Scott wouldn’t have cared either. Doubtless avoiding such red tape would have saved him money, but he could afford it and my own professional ethics forbade me from such actions. Besides, if I was found out then the chances were, I’d never work again in my chosen field. When the phone call had come out of the blue, offering me way over my usual rates for this job it had been a total surprise and not one I could afford to turn down.
Craig had assembled a full team to survey the castle. As well as the three of us he’d brought his personal chef, a structural engineer, a local (well as local as you could get to this place) builder and a technician to maintain all the technology he’d brought along to keep an eye on his various business interests while he was here, along with a satellite link. I wondered just how rich the man was? He seemed to be splashing out cash like it was going out of fashion. He’d paid for a road to be laid from the nearest town all the way to the castle site and each of us had our own trailer as well as one for his travelling IT suite and another with food supplies which only his private chef had access to. I was surprised at the amount of caution he seemed to show there. Was he afraid of some rival poisoning him? The whole thing amazed me that despite the recent market, crash, he still had this amount of money to spare. From the headlines, it seemed that every tech giant was on the verge of crashing out of business.
Craig always had a habit of throwing himself obsessively into every aspect of a new hobby or project, which he’d pursue until something else took his interest. So, it had been with restoring this castle. On the first morning he’d turned up decked out in full highland regalia, kilt and everything. He’d found it was uncomfortably warm to wear all day long though, but another part of his obsession involved learning how to play the bagpipes, using only an online guide.
I sat at the breakfast table, looking around at my teammates. When the weather was nice, we’d taken to eating our meals outside. When it was raining or cold, we’d split up into our little groups. Craig would eat with Bill and Barri in his trailer, Anthony would eat on his own while me and Jock would share our mealtimes with Mel, rotating between each of our trailers. Craig was not what you’d call a handsome man. He’d always reminded me somewhat of a dog. Not a pedigree, or the kind you’d display at a show, more some half-bred mongrel with a body full of bad genes. I’d heard that money was a powerful aphrodisiac, but Scott had never been married and indeed seemed to rarely date. Certainly, when we’d been at school, I didn’t recall him ever being able to get a girlfriend (although I did recall his obsessive behaviour around a few girls that bordered on stalking), and with his unruly shock of red hair, eyes that stared in different directions and collection of health issues like asthma and epileptic fits he was the poster child for lonely outcasts everywhere. He'd been nicknamed 'Beanpole' when the kids felt like playing nice and 'Matchstick' when they didn't. He'd been tall and rake thin back then. Frankly, his personal hygiene left something to be desired too. Looking at him, if you didn’t know who he was you’d never think you were looking at one of the richest men in the country. Most guys in his situation would at least work at  having a nice personality, but Craig was off-putting in every way. If I hadn’t frankly desperately needed the money, I wouldn’t have taken the job. I’d always found his habit of mocking the disabled ve,ry irritating, especially given his own conditions. At school he’d been rake thin, but in the years since he’d obviously been living the goo,d life a little too much and his body had become pudgy. Still nature had seen fit to compensate him for his physical condition with a brain that was razor-sharp and since I’d been skating around the verge of bankruptcy for a few years now, could I really judge anyone else? I had been surprised a few years back when it had been in the papers when he’d founded a charity to look after orphaned children, and I thought perhaps the years and changed him, but within an hour or renewing our acquaintance it was obvious he was still the same man. I figured the whole charity schtick was some kind of corporate tax write off or A PR stunt.
 Anthony, on the other hand, had been the archetypal jock. Tall, tanned and handsome, he’d been married at 19 and divorced before he was 22. I hadn’t seen him at his low point after being kicked out of college, but that time had evidently marked him. He still had a perma-tan, was slim and muscular, but he always had a slightly haggard look to his eyes. The way he acted though, you’d think he was Craig’s employer and not the other way around. He often ordered his employer around, directing him to carry out tasks you’d expect to be delegated downwards, not up the way. It seemed odd to me, but then again perhaps this was just a natural extension of their boyhood relationship. Craig was sitting at the head of the table, leaning over some paperwork Anthony was showing him and occasionally signing a sheet of paper.
The cook, Barri was the eldest in the group. I knew next to nothing about her, other than that she prepared all of Scott’s meals and evidently had been with him for a number of years. She was nice enough, although she kept herself to herself mostly. Craig was the only one I’d heard her exchange more than ten words with at any one time. Her accent placed her as being from the states and with her name I thought of her as being of Scandinavian decent. Her dress sense was somewhat eclectic. One day she’d be dressed like a hippy from the ‘60s with all the colours of the rainbow and the next all in long, trailing black clothes, making her look like a scrawny raven. She was a good cook though and I could see why Craig had retained her services. She had a ton of stories about working for the rich and famous, on film sets and sometimes just in humble diners and an easy laugh. Having served everyone, she’d taken a seat in the middle of the long table, close to Bill, the IT guy. He was too busy engrossed in his mobile phone though to engage in any conversation.
Speaking of Bill, well he was pretty much Craig twenty years ago personality-wise, although physically they were very different. Tall and thin, with a pale round face that reminded me of a full yellow moon, it. Indeed, my private nickname for him was Mr Moonface. My one conversation with him had revealed he suffered from seriously bad breath. Since then I’d avoided talking to him as much as possible. He was tall, thin and wore glasses making him look like even more of an archetypal nerd than Craig. He seemed to share his bosses sense of humour. Maybe it was something about computer geeks?
Jock was a highlander, from one of the small towns north of Inverness with a name I couldn’t figure out how to pronounce. I thought a project of this size was a bit outside his expertise and was much larger than his small company could handle, but Craig had full confidence in the man. He was large and beefy, with a permanently red face. I thought he was a cheeseburger away from a heart attack. His accent was pretty strong though and I found it difficult to understand what he was saying at times. When he spoke, he would start off talking normally, but gradually he’d slip back into his native accent and I’d have, to remind him to speak English again.
 Finally we had Melanie. She struck me as something of a tomboy. She had the kind of looks that had Craig and Bill drooling over her. I’d only seen her dressed in work clothes, her long brown hair tied back in a simple ponytail Since our jobs were closely aligned, we had to spend a lot of time together, discussing what Craig wanted done and the, best ways to achieve it. Out of all the group I found her the easiest company to get along with, and I noticed she did her best to avoid spending time with any of the other men in the group. From what she'd told me she'd worked for Craig for three years. She never said directly, but I got the distinct impression she only stayed with him because of the higher than usual wages, but she'd been on the ground level of several major projects for him.
 Well, I could understand that one. They were hardly the finest examples of the male species. I was married and therefore safer I guess, and although my marriage was hardly a happy one these days, I had no wish to make things worse by sleeping around. Money troubles had worn us both down and I hoped this job would fix those and help me patch things up. I had thought I was charging all the market would bear when I gave Craig my estimate for the job, but he paid up without question and even included a healthy bonus. I sat beside Mel and across from Jock, showing them my plans for restoring the main hallway and she was pointing out little things that wouldn’t work as planned, and suggesting little changes. It wasn’t every day you got to plan building a castle and she was clearly enthusiastic about the whole thing. Jock watched over us, occasionally grunting something and making some marks in his notebook. My guess is he was figuring out how much he could charge extra.
We were so deep in conversation that I didn’t realise Craig had joined us until he leaned over, putting an arm around myself and Mel. I saw a brief uncomfortable look cross Mel’s face which she quickly hid. “How are my favourite engineers? Ready to start putting my castle back together?” I stood up straight, coincidently forcing Craig to remove his arms from both of us. “Just going over the initial plans. We’ve pretty much decided on how to do the ground floor and working up from there. What we need to do is check underground, see if the old foundations are still sound and what we can do with them. We’ll start testing the ground this morning, see if this old pile has any underground rooms. I’d imagine they’d have a dungeon or something.”
 Craig’s eye’s widened with excitement. He was practically standing there vibrating. I took a few steps towards the ruins and started pointing out various things. He moved over to ask some questions and Mel mouthed a silent thank you in my direction as he left her side. “That is your grand hall right there. I am drawing up plans for a road to go from the main gate right up to the doors. When any visitors enter, we want to hit them with this big, impressive hallway. Behind that, you’ll have the kitchens of course. Depending on how the ground sits, we’ll have food storage and of course a wine cellar.”
 “I’d like separate cellars. One for meat, one for veg, one for the wine. Oh, and I want one just for my own personal projects. I’ll need plenty of room of course.”
I raised an eyebrow at the thought of just what those personal projects could possibly be. In my mind’s eye, I pictured the lair of some villain from a James Bond movie, attempting to take over the world from behind a bank of computer screens.
 We walked over to the grounds proper and I continued my narration. “Here is where we’ll have the main tower. As instructed, your private apartments will be at the top with guest quarters below.”
We spent about an hour walking around. I showed him some initial sketches of what we’d planned out, occasionally taking notes on changes he wanted made. Most of those would be ignored as impossible, but I had to at least sound interested and, make encouraging noises. Later on, I’d explain why various bits and pieces were impossible. Customers always had extra things they wanted adding, each of which would increase the cost, then they’d complain when it came time to pay up. I found it best to do some work and then afterwards tell the consumer what we’d done rather than waste huge sums trying to achieve something that just wouldn’t work and would just be abandoned later.
Then again, maybe that was why I wasn’t making enough money to get by.
Once Craig was satisfied with our plans, he wandered off to speak to Bill and doubtless check up on how his empire was doing. I left him to it and re-joined Mel and Jock. She had some tool for checking the ground, a GMR she said as if I would know what that was. She must have seen my expression and explained that it was basically a radar that probed the ground and could allow her to make an initial report on the stability of the terrain. It would also reveal any underground rivers, caves or mine workings that might cause problems with subsidence.
We scouted around the existing outer wall and followed the path of where the new walls would be built. Every so often, she’d stop and stomp the ground with one boot and a frown would cross her forehead. When we’d finished the initial survey, she seemed to check the readouts on the GMR several times and then said: “We have a hollow space under here. It starts twenty feel down, but I can’t get a reading on how deep it goes. Could be six feet, could be twenty.”
“I could have some men here tomorrow and dig down to it” ventured Jock.
I chewed my lip for a moment while I weighed up the options. If it was an old cellar then we could use it, but if it was a natural cave then we could have problems. If it had some rare animal living down there, then the whole project could get cancelled. I didn’t dare order construction if the whole thing might collapse into a forgotten mine. “Yeah, call them in. We’ll need to find the extent of them.” I sighed heavily. I could not afford for this job not to pay off. I needed a successful, high profile job to attract new clients. Worried about the future, I went to find Craig and give him the ‘good’ news.
 
As expected, Craig was in his computer trailer (or, as he liked to call it. His command centre). I slowed my footsteps somewhat as I overheard an angry exchange between him and Bill. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear the shouted conversation between the two although at this distance the words were in distinct, I caught enough to realise the argument was over money. I vacillated outside the trailer, not wanting to go in and disturb them mid shouting match and feeling uncomfortable about listening from outside. Just as I had decided to wander off somewhere else and come back later, the door to the trailer slammed open and Bill came storming out, his face flushed. I yelp of laughter escaped my mouth before I could hide it as the door bounced off the frame and smacked him in the face. I covered my mouth with one hand and faked a coughing fit as he walked off in a thunderous fury. Not sure of my options, I reverted to my original plan and entered the so-called command centre.
 
Craig’s face was red, setting off his hair rather than matching it. As I entered, he looked over unhappily and said, “I suppose you heard that?”
“Sorry, couldn’t help overhearing. I couldn’t make out what was being said though. Your secrets are safe.” He snorted. “I didn’t think it was much of a secret. My entire business is on the verge of collapse.”
“Why all this then? You must be spending several fortunes on this?” Shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve taken risks before and nearly been wiped out. I’ve always managed to recover though, and this time won’t be any different. Anyway, what is up?”
“We’ve found a hollow space beneath the ground, right where it could possibly undermine the main walls. Jock is going to bring some diggers so we can investigate it further.”
He shot up out of his seat, his face suddenly aflush again, but with excitement this time. “Where? Show me now!” He practically pushed his way passed me in his eagerness to get out there, evidently forgetting all about any financial problems. I followed in his wake as he almost ran over to where Jock and Mel stood. “Where is it? How deep does it go? Have we found some dungeons?” He was breathlessly pouring out questions. “How quickly can we go down and have a look around?” I was pretty taken aback by Craig’s reaction. He was a man clearly built for comfort rather than speed. The fact that he seemed to want to go exploring underground was surprising.
Mel put her hands up “Woah there, slow down hoss. Jock is going to have a couple of his guys come out tomorrow and we’ll dig down. Might take a day to dig through, might take a couple. Then I’ll have to make sure it is safe and stable enough for us to go looking around.”
“I don’t care what it takes. I’ll double your money.”
Mel put her hands on his hips and her voice took on a very stern tone. “Mr Beane, as long as I am on this project everything will be done in correctly. Unless you want to replace me, no one will be going down until I am sure it is safe to do so!” Craig’s mouth opened and closed a few times. He reminded me a goldfish I’d once seen out ,of water. Eventually, he shut his mouth, turned around without a word and strode off back towards the trailers.
I wondered again why Craig was investing so much money into this project? Especially if cash was tight. Did he think there was some long-forgotten treasure hidden underneath the castle? Mind you, as I’d seen before he did get a bit obsessive over his latest projects. Maybe his excitement was just part and parcel of that. I was feeling glad that I’d been paid up front for this project though. Even if I didn’t get paid the promised bonus at the end of it, what I had already received was more than enough to pay my debts and keep me going until the end of the year even if no other work turned up, but I needed a successful job to attract new clients. I didn’t want to end up beholden to charity hand me down jobs from Craig.
We spent the rest of the day marking up potential dig spots and marking out where various walls would go, should the underground allow it. It might be wasted effort depending on what they survey said, but there wasn’t much else to do around here, and it was better than just sitting around doing nothing.
The evening meal was somewhat subdued. The normally tight cluster of Craig, Bill and Barrie was broken up with Bill sitting across from a glowering Anthony and nary a word was exchanged between any of them. Our little group ate as quickly as we could and then retired to my trailer to engage in our nightly card games, interrupted by Jock making phone calls to tell his men how to find the construction site and what year to bring. “I’ll noa hae the heavier gear sent up ken. Noa until  we see if it's at awe needed. Just some men wa’ shovels and mibbies a wee mechanical digger. I dinnae ken if the ground could tak the weight o’ a big digger,” he told us after one long phone call.
 
I wondered if there was an app to translate what he was saying into English? Who was this Ken he kept talking about? When we’d first met the first thing, he’d said to me was “Furry boots”. This caused some confusion as I was wearing a pair of dress shoes. As it turned out he was asking “Whereabouts?” Meaning, where were you from? It really was like learning a whole new language. On the radio, I could hear a news broadcast about a bunch of students who had possibly gone missing not too far away from where we were. Four of a party of six had vanished and there seemed to be some confusion on wither or not they had come up to the highlands or disappeared further south and the police were investigating a possible drugs connection. They’d been missing for a week now and the official search was being called off, much to the consternation of the parents. One of them was offering a large reward for the return of his son and I made a mental note of their descriptions just on the off chance they blundered lost and hungry into our midst, then changed to channel to some ‘80s music.
 
We shared a half bottle of whiskey Jock had brought as we played poker. He won most of the hands, making me glad we weren’t playing for money. It was nearly 11 before it got dark, fooling us with how late it really was before we decided to pack up for the night.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2020, 09:22:23 AM by Alex » Logged

But do you understand That none of this will matter Nothing can take your pain away
Alex
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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« Reply #141 on: March 10, 2020, 09:20:10 AM »

WEDNESDAY.

It was the early afternoon before the extra men arrived. Three of them, in a flatbed truck with various bits of digging equipment on the back, including the promised mini digger. The three men were already dirty as if they’d been working all morning. One of them, a thin but rangy man I would later learn was called Cliffy was the foreman. The other two were called Joe (blond-haired with a beard) and Kev (a large man who always had a snack in his hand, normally some sort of meat-filled pastry). Mel directed them to dig at the spot she’d decided was the most stable and the three went to work, Jock keeping a close eye on them and chatting to Kev. Craig checked on them frequently. I sat observing from a distance, going over the plans again with Mel. When we had went over them half a dozen times, I decided to take a walk along the Lochside, take some photos. I hadn’t seen much wildlife here, but the scenery was breath-taking. Especially in the morning when the sun was rising. Mel retired back to her trailer. I had noticed she locked the door behind her. I could understand why she’d do that, especially when I noticed Craig watching her walk back alone. Back at school more than one girl had complained she hadn’t wanted to be left alone in a room with him. His usual thing had been putting his hand on girls knee’s when sitting beside them.
Nothing criminal, or enough to get him kicked out of school, but he had the reputation of being a real creep.

I wondered if he paid for women nowadays rather than deal with all the hassle and embarrassment of being turned down? Well, I guess that was none of my business. So far his behaviour around Mel had been limited to getting uncomfortably close and leering. Unpleasant no doubt for her, but nothing I'd imagine a pretty girl like her hadn't had to deal with a hundred times before.  strolled along the edge of the water, seeing no sign of fish, bird or animal, just grass, moss and heather. No aircraft contrails crossed the sky and my phone had no signal. "Welcome to the stone age, Phil" I thought as I snapped a few landscape shots. I'd show them to Annette when I got home. If she hadn't packed up and left me. That thought put a dark cloud in my heart and I lost my appetite for walking further. Besides I didn't want to miss the dig breaking through to the mysterious underground space. Thinking about that brought me back to Craig's reaction to us finding it. I decided he was just so into this latest project his excitement had been over the thought of uncovering some ancient historical site rather than silly notions of buried treasure. Besides, why hire the rest of us if he was looking for something valuable. Out here in the middle of nowhere, he'd hardly need us to provide a cover story and surely even if that were the reason there would have been contracts and non-disclosure agreements to sign. My mind mused over all sorts of situations on the way back. Some involving Annette and me saving our patchwork marriage, others with Craig and what he wanted to do with a castle in the wilds, far beyond the comforts of civilisation he was so used to and thrived on. Surely there were castles in better condition and in better places he could have bought? I started considering the castle itself. It had been made of granite, a stone in plentiful supply in this region. When we'd travelled over from the States we'd landed in Aberdeen (following a stopover in Charles De Gaulle airport). The entire city seemed to be made from that flat grey rock. In the bright sunshine, it was just about passable although I'd have hated to see it on a rainy day. It must be one of the most depressing places in existence in bad weather. About a third of the ground floor remained, and only the occasional jagged wall jutting up higher than its surrounds spoke of the second floor, or if you were British the first floor. I found it odd that they called the first floor the ground and then numbered them from the flight above. Most of the taller ruins were around the main tower, where I guessed the lord and his family lived and where Craig (of course) wanted his rooms. He'd talked of a four or five-story building, which would give him a real commanding view of the surrounding hills and plenty of warning should the Sassonach's come making war north of the border once more. At night when the moon was rising, the ruins looked very much like jagged and broken teeth sticking up. Some people might find it romantic and relaxing but to me, it felt otherworldly and out of joint with reality, as if we'd slipped through the net of reality and into some weird fairy realm.

My meandering mind was brought back into focus when by sheer luck I heard shouts of excitement as I neared the camp. The afternoon was just fading into the evening and the men digging the whole had found their way through to the empty space beneath the ground! I ran over to join them, quickly followed by the others. Bill had evidently come out of his earlier huff and was his usual pale-faced self, Anthony was scowling a little but that too was usual for him. Craig meanwhile was practically bursting with excitement and was all for jumping down the hole. Reluctantly, Mel agreed to go down immediately. Shining a torch down they could see what looked like a flagstone floor down below. A wet smell, tinged with rot drifted out of the whole, tainting the otherwise agreeable early evening air. It was decided that Mel and one of the labourers would descend into the depths, and after a quick game of rock, paper, scissors it came down to Joe. He looked the physically fitter of the two anyway and I was more confident of his ability to handle any problems they might encounter down there than anyone else. Craig was practically dancing around the edge of the pit and tried unsuccessfully to persuade Mel that he should be the first one to go underground. To her credit she once more stood her ground, refusing to let anyone else climb down. Kev brought over a ladder from the back of the truck and it was carefully lowered into place and the bottom of the pit. While they put it in place I asked Mel how they had managed to dig the hole out so quickly. "It collapsed all by itself when they had dug out a few feet. Guess I picked a good spot. I've checked the ground around thoroughly. I am sure it won't collapse any further, but just in case I had them back the digger away. My guess is we hit part of a staircase connecting to the ground. Maybe it was a wooden one and decayed to nothing, but left the stairwell intact?"
"Sounds plausible. It is at a corner. You sure about going down there just now?" I tried to keep the note of concern out of my voice, but despite her reassurances, I couldn't help but think of what happened if there was a cave-in. "Yeah. Besides if I don't I am pretty sure our employer will sneak down there in the middle of the night. I wouldn't put it past him to find some old cave complex and get lost forever."
With a cheeky grin, I replied: "Are you so sure that would be such a bad thing?" She laughed and shook her head. Her laugh reminded me of Annette when we were first dating. Somehow our love had just seemed to turn bad, like rotten meat. I sighed and then did my best to push those thoughts to the back of my mind. When I got back I was going to take her somewhere on holiday, just the two of us. Mel raised an eyebrow at my sigh but didn't ask what it was for. "I'm just going to pick up a few things and I'll be right back. Then we can start our explorations."
She sauntered off and returned in a few minutes carrying a pair of plastic hats, the kinds builders wear, each with a head torch, a face mask and a reel of white thread. She noticed my quizzical glance and said "Its to lay a trail behind us so we don't get lost. Never heard of Theseus and the Minotaur?"
"I would prefer it if you didn't find any cannibalistic mythological creatures down there myself."
"It wouldn't be a cannibal."
"Huh?"
"Cannibal's eat their own species. The Minotaur wasn't human, so if it ate us it wouldn't be a cannibal. We'd just be meat to any carnivore that cared to dine on us."
"Huh. You learn something new every day. I am sure that would make me feel so much better about being eaten alive."
"Hey, anything I can do to help, I am happy to."
As we were talking, she was donning the safety gear she'd brought along with a harness she could clip her torch to leaving both hands free, then passed Joe his gear and helped him don it. Then, with her leading the way they descended the ladder down into the labyrinth. I watched as they climbed down into the narrow circle of light that reached the floor beneath. They looked around and then stepped out of our sight into the darkness. I suddenly wished they had taken radio's, or taken a third person down with them so that if one had an accident someone could remain with the injured while the other went for help. I wanted to call down to them but then thought Craig would only use it as an excuse to go down there and doubtless get in the way more than help out. As it was he was stepping impatiently from side to side trying to peer down into the darkness. It was still daylight, but the light had faded a little. I didn't think it was smart starting our reconnaissance this late in the day, but as Mel had said it might be more trouble than it was worth to leave it. I must admit that I found myself eager to go down there and explore myself. To see something that no other man had seen for centuries and find out what was down there. Maybe I could understand Craig better than I first thought. I ruminated about that for a minute or two and then decided Nah. He was too freaky. I kept looking at the clock on my phone. The minutes ticked by unbearably slowly and what felt like an eternity passed before Joe and Mel reappeared, climbing up the ladder and into the light. Both removed their masks revealing faces that were covered in dust above where the masks had covered. It looked slightly comical. As Mel removed hers she spoke "Well, it stinks down there. The air is none too fresh. I think maybe some small animals find ways in and then can't get out and starve to death. The air is a bit stale. Definite smell of decayed meat. It looks like we have an extensive set of underground rooms. We got nowhere near all of it explored. From what I've seen though, the stonework looks good. We'll go back down in the morning for a fuller survey. I saw a few places where it will need repairs or strengthened but I am pretty sure we can build on it safely." She looked over towards Jock and continued "If we could get some lights to string along down there it would be a big help. The longer the better. We can run them off the generator. In the meanwhile, I want to set some barriers around the hole. I wouldn't want someone accidentally stumbling and falling down there on a midnight stroll."
Jock motioned to Kev and Cliffy who headed off to their truck, returning with some thin metal stakes and a roll of white tape. This whole time they had been back above ground Craig had stood perfectly still, practically devouring every word Mel had said about the underground lair beneath his feet. His eyes positively gleamed as he listened. I wondered again if he had expected to find this and if there was something down there he wanted?
Barri cooked a late dinner for us all that night. The tensions that had been there previously in the day faded away, It occurred to me that we had nowhere for Jock's employees to sleep unless we shared our trailers, but it transpired they were going to drive back tonight and return after a days rest. Mel worked out a shopping list of equipment for them to bring back, all of which Craig agreed to with little more than a perfunctory glance. We all sat down to some remarkably fresh steaks, by way of a celebratory meal. The food had a slightly unfamiliar, but not unpleasant taste. I would have to ask Barri for some of her recipes before the job was over. After they'd eaten Cliffy, Joe and Kev drove off along with Jock. Bill was chatting in a low voice with Anthonyand occasionally he glared in Craig's direction. We gathered up some wood and made a small fire, and sat around telling jokes. Barri produced some beers from her trailer which we kept cool in a bucket of water from the loch. "You know," I said "The last time  I did this I was at camp and we were telling ghost stories. I miss those days."
Craig leaned over, his face lit by the flickering flames. "Well does anyone have any scary stories to tell? Help Phil's nostalgia."
Anthony laughed, "Well, I did hear one about this area when I was doing some research on the region before we flew over. Back between the world wars, the government built an insane asylum,. Being miles from anywhere, it was supposed to house the worst of the worst. They shipped criminals and lunatics from all over the country to be held here. Rumour has it though, that this place had a deeper secret. It also held men who had been so broken by what they'd been through in the first world war that they couldn't be fixed. See during the big battles, men would get trapped in no mans land, between the trenches. They'd take cover in shell holes to begin with, but they wouldn't be able to get back to their own lines thanks to snipers and machine guns, so they'd make themselves a home of sorts, digging down into the ground, just like the armies on either side of them. Sometimes they'd be joined by other trapped men, sometimes from their own side, sometimes from the other. You had them all there living together. English, German, French... Now, as long as the food they carried lasted, this was great. They survived out there, forgotten by the rest of the world and when a big battle was happening they'd simply hide underground until it got dark, then they'd loot the bodies for the food they carried. When there wasn't a battle though and the food ran out... Well, things were different then. They couldn't go hunting for food. There was no animals in no man's land."
The story was suddenly interrupted by a strange noise. Everyone stopped and looked around, as a noise very much like the howling of a wolf keened out. "Are there wolves in Scotland?" Mel asked. "Nah," replied Barri. "I am sure they were killed of centuries ago. There has been talk of reintroducing them, but nothing has happened. It's just the wind whistling weirdly across the hills." We all listened for a few more minutes but heard nothing more, so Anthony continued, his voice starting to slur from all the lager he'd been guzzling down. "Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. They couldn't raid their own trenches. Chances are they'd get gunned down, and even if they didn't well if anyone was captured then the whole gig was up. They'd know these men were surviving out there and they'd catch 'em. Shoot them as deserters as soon as look at them. So they turned to the only supply of food they had left. Each other. They'd turn on the weakest, kill 'em and cook 'em up. Towards the end of the war when us Yanks came over and saved Europe's ass for the first time and the front lines started moving again, well these secret tunnels, they were uncovered and all the men hiding in them got caught. The whole thing was hushed up. Didn't want the people back home knowing just how bad things had gotten out there so they shipped all those man-eaters out here, let the families think they'd died in battle or were missing in action and swore the soldiers that had found them to secrecy. They were supposed to rot there until they died, and no doubt they would have had it not been for the next world war. You see once the German's had kicked Norway's arse they had bases they could reach Scotland from and one night on a bombing raid towards Glasgow one of their planes got separated and lost. Didn't have no GPS or radar in those days you see, and seeing how there were no people living around here there were no lights to show any towns or cities to bomb. Well, not until they saw the lights of the asylum, so they flew in low and dropped all their bombs, thinking it must be some army base out in the middle of nowhere like that."Anthony paused and leaned back.
"Well, this place was so secret and hush hush that no one knew anything was up for weeks. When someone did finally realise they hadn't had their regular reports and sent some troops in to investigate, they found the place a burned-out ruin. Given who was housed there, well that was no big loss to anyone. Would have been one less thing to worry about for the government. Trouble is though when they dug through the rubble well they didn't manage to find all the bodies. Now maybe some were destroyed by the explosions, or maybe they were just buried beneath the rubble and couldn't be found... or maybe a few of them survived and escaped. Certainly, some of the bodies they found, and this was kept very, very quiet indeed. Some of those bodies had been partially eaten. As soon as they'd gotten free those survivors that had been kept locked away, separated even from the worst of the worst, well they had gone right back to surviving the best way they knew how. Eating the bodies of other men. Some say not only did they survive, but so did some of the female nurses." And at this point, he leered at Mel. "You can just imagine what those men did to those women when they hadn't had their hands on one for over twenty years. Well, those women ended up having kids and some say that even today their descendants roam these very hills, looking to continue the family tradition of eating the other white meat. Every so often they find some. So a hiker or two goes missing, search parties never find them. Not a surprise in a place as wild and remote as this so no one really asks any questions about it. The asylum is long forgotten about and everyone who knew about it is long dead. Who knows, maybe they are out there now, watching us around the campfire and just waiting to catch one of us alone."
Barri burst out laughing, dispelling the sinister mood momentarily. "You know I am going to call bulls**t on that story. But I do know one true story about Scotland and cannibals. Ever seen the movie, The Hills Have Eyes? Well, that was based on a true story from here. You see there was a man called Sawney, and Sawney now he was a poor man. Could hardly afford to feet his wife or screaming kids. So Sawney does what any desperate man would do. He turns to crime. He steals food from his neighbours, only they are as dirt poor as he is. They figure out who is stealing from them and go to the local magistrate who runs him and his family out of the village, burning his cottage down so they can't come back. Sawney was desperate before, now he just doesn't know what to do, how to feed his family. He goes a little nuts, but he still manages to find a cave, down by the shore they can take shelter in. When the tide comes in the cave gets cut off, but it at least keeps the rain off their heads and the wind off their backs, but that still isn't enough. He tries fishing, but he was a farmer. Never seen the sea before and has no idea about fishing. His family are starving and he goes a little bit crazier. One day though, he comes across a man who had been riding along the beach. His horse had tripped, breaking its leg and injuring himself. Now, who does this man turn out to be but the same magistrate who had him chased out of the town? Well, when Sawney sees him he just flips and whatever sanity he has left is just gone. He picks up a rock and brains the man. He goes through his pockets and steals whatever gold he had on him, but where is he going to spend it? The village won't let him buy things there and even if he could how would he explain all the money. When they realised the magistrate was busy, he'd be fitted up for the crime good and proper. He thinks maybe they can eat the horse, but a horse is a big, heavy beast. No way he can carry all that home. Then he looks again at the magistrate. Now him, Sawney could carry. Now, remember at this point Sawney is completely round the bend. He takes the body home and at first when he tells his wife to cut the body and cook it his family freak out, but they are starving and that man starts to look mighty tasty. So sure enough, they do him up like a thanksgiving turkey and cook him up.
From there on in, Sawney and his family are on easy street. They attack small groups of travellers on foot, maybe the odd lone traveller on horseback but they are careful never to take on too large a group. They don't want any survivors. This works really well for them and Sawney's family grows. Eventually, there are three or four generations of them down there, catching, cooking and eating anyone unfortunate enough to fall into their clutches. Nothing good lasts forever though. Sooner or later something is going to go wrong. For Sawney's family, it is when they try attacking a young couple of horseback. Newlyweds they were, riding off on their honeymoon. Now the woman they manage to catch. She gets her skull cracked open by a rock and is dead sharpish, but the young man, her husband well he digs his spurs in and manages to escape. Of course, the first thing he does s go tell the local authorities and they send a bunch of soldiers out. The soldiers find the family, only they've been breeding and by this time Sawney is an old man, with not just his kids, but grandkids and great-grandkids too. They round up everyone in the cave. Something like 40 or 50 of them, all surrounded by leftover parts of their victims and dressed in the clothes they'd taken from them. The females of the clan, well they got off easy like. Each of them was taken and burned as witches. The men though, they got a bit more imaginative with. First, they cut their dicks off, then they lopped off their hands and feet. Then they were left lying there to bleed to death.
And there perhaps the story should have ended, except it didn't. There was one of the daughters, still just a young thing. She had been away playing in the woods when the soldiers arrested her family and so escaped their fate. At least for a while. Even as a babe, she'd been fed human flesh and it left her with a powerful craving for more.
She grew up married and had kids of her own but she kept up her old habits. Eventually, they caught her chowing down on some traveller. They burned her like they had her female relations, but the children, well they escaped and made it out into the world. Some say she'd taught her children her, ahem secret family recipes and they continued on the family traditions. No doubt they passed those traditions onto their own kids, a secret clan of flesh-eaters living amongst the rest of us. If anyone is out there, watching us then it is one of them." At this point Craig suddenly jumped out from the dark, yelling "BOO!"
Bill let out a girlish shriek and I must admit to having something of a start myself. My leg shot out, spilling the bucket of water out and sending several people scrambling back to avoid getting soaked. Barri sat back, shooting a satisfied look at Mel as she observed the minor chaos her story and Craig's fright had caused. For her part, Mel did look slightly disturbed by the night's tall tales. I guess she wasn't one for horror movies.
By this point, the moon was high in the sky. It was a clear night, and I don't think I've ever seen as clear a starlit sky as I did that night. I am sure I'll never see a clearer one again. Midnight was fast approaching and we decided to head back to our trailers. We were tidying up the camp first, making sure that the fire didn't spread. The flames were dying anyway, and I separated the last few smouldering branches, while Mel walked down to the lochside to get a fresh bucket of water. Anthony followed and cornered her by the waterside. He seemed to be talking earnestly with her, although I couldn't tell about what about. I observed them talking for a few moments, more to see if Anthony was propositioning her and bothering the poor woman, but she didn't look as if she was trying to get away from him. My gaze drifted around and I spotted Craig. He was watching Anthony and Mel very intently, his mouth twisted into an unhappy grimace. I wondered what was going on behind the scenes at his company?


Anthony.

Anthony felt his gorge rise as he strode off alone back towards the camp. He had a damn good thing going on here and he wasn't about to let anyone spoil it! Since Craig had scooped him out of the gutter, life had been the easy ride it should always have been. His mind in a dark mood, he walked past the trailer park and along the shore. He had to find a way to get through to his boss, make him see what a foolish idea this whole vanity project was. He cracked open the beer he had in his hand and took a deep swig from the can. It was advertised as being 'Super Strength' and they weren't kidding. It tasted more like vodka than any lager he'd ever had before, but it was over 10% and all it took was a couple to get really drunk. He kicked a stone, imagining he was back on the playing fields of his youth and imagining he had just scored a field goal. The stone plopped into the water with a satisfying sound. In the distance, he could still hear the noise of the others saying good night. His drunken mind demanded that he find silence, somewhere he could think about what he needed to do and get his head straight. Bill had spoken with him earlier, let him know just how much trouble Craig was n. It was that b***h! Before she had come along he had been able to control Craig. The man's fortune had been his personal piggy bank, but now that bank was running dangerously low. He'd tried to chat with her, make it clear that she had to talk to Craig, get him to call this whole cockamamy scheme off, or at least shelf it and concentrate on saving his business, but she hadn't been interested in listening dammit! He drained his can a second time, emptying it of its potent brew, then scrunched up the can and launched it into the nearby waters. Well, he wasn't done yet. He still had some influence over his boss. He'd just march back there and tell him how things stood, that it was him or that b***h. One of them had to go! He spun around determined to do just that, but overbalanced and fell over. He lashed out with his feet and fists, convinced the night, or perhaps the beach itself had been responsible for his fall, but there was only the cold night air. His eyes couldn't quite focus on anything, but he was sure he saw something coming towards him, and something glittered in the night air. There was too little light for him to see the figure marching unerringly towards him. He could see something shining in the moonlight, but his drink befuddled mind couldn't recognise what was shining, or the danger it posed. A blurrily seen arm raised itself high and brought a heavy meat clever down with all the force it could muster. The blade's edge met flesh, and the flesh parted. The thick ridge of bone caused barely more resistance as the metal plunged deep through his forehead and into the soft, meaty brain beneath. Even as he fell sideways, his body going limp, his last conscious effort before death embraced him was of his eyes independently trying to focus on the strange object buried between them.
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But do you understand That none of this will matter Nothing can take your pain away
pennywise37
Bad Movie Lover
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Karma: 37
Posts: 769



« Reply #142 on: March 27, 2020, 02:40:29 AM »

here's a poem i wrote recently that i'm not sure if it's done just yet but in case it is here it is

The Nightmare" i'll just date it today 3-27-20

We Live in a world right now that's messed up
we live in a world that's fuxed up

that's fuxed up beyond measure
beyond means

the young as well as the old are dying of a virus
people are dying left and right or right to left
& there's no one to blame for our failures in protecting each other
our failures in keeping people safe
our failures with each other

we live in a world right now that's fuxed up
we are all scared of what can happen over what has or what will
that we forget to enjoy what we do have and that is each other

we should come together as one & comfort each other,
rather than be terrified each and every day of what can happen & what will happen

but the enemy the virus is still out there & waiting, hoping for it's next victim
it hides behind every corner, every crevice
waiting, hoping the next victim is there for it to take over, to conquer it's prey
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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pennywise37
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Karma: 37
Posts: 769



« Reply #143 on: March 28, 2020, 06:55:04 PM »

what do you guys think of it?
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pennywise37
Bad Movie Lover
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Karma: 37
Posts: 769



« Reply #144 on: May 25, 2020, 08:39:08 AM »

it's been a long ass time since anyone has written anything, but i wrote this one about a week ago but i just did some touch ups to it now and gave it a title.  so since i can't think of which day i did write it i'm just gonna say screw it and date it today and who knows maybe i'll add even more to it as i post it.

anyways it's called 'The Many Phases Of Our Love  dated 5-25-20

I"m Scared
Scared that you won't love me anymore

i'm terrified
i'm terrified that our love will one day end

i worry
i worry what tomorrow will bring
i worry what the future holds for us, our undying love

I wonder
I wonder, wonder where all the time went when we aren't Together

I'm scared
I"m scared that you won't see me as i truly am, As i really am

i'm terrified
i'm terrified that you will & won't like what you see

I worry
I worry that i won't be enough for you that our love that you'll find another guy & leave me in the lurches
wondering what i did wrong, what did go wrong with our love ?

I wonder
i wonder if all these thoughts are in my head and i'm making something out of nothing


i'm scared
i'm scared that all my fears will one day come true & surpass our love & Zigzag us away from each other, from our love
our undying love
---------------------------------------

what do you guys and gals think?

i actually did end up adding more to it in fact and fixing even more in fact

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ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Karma: 1228
Posts: 8497


The sleep of reasoner breeds monsters.


« Reply #145 on: August 17, 2020, 10:17:26 PM »

it's been a long ass time since anyone has written anything, but i wrote this one about a week ago but i just did some touch ups to it now and gave it a title.  so since i can't think of which day i did write it i'm just gonna say screw it and date it today and who knows maybe i'll add even more to it as i post it.

anyways it's called 'The Many Phases Of Our Love  dated 5-25-20

I"m Scared
Scared that you won't love me anymore

i'm terrified
i'm terrified that our love will one day end

i worry
i worry what tomorrow will bring
i worry what the future holds for us, our undying love

I wonder
I wonder, wonder where all the time went when we aren't Together

I'm scared
I"m scared that you won't see me as i truly am, As i really am

i'm terrified
i'm terrified that you will & won't like what you see

I worry
I worry that i won't be enough for you that our love that you'll find another guy & leave me in the lurches
wondering what i did wrong, what did go wrong with our love ?

I wonder
i wonder if all these thoughts are in my head and i'm making something out of nothing


i'm scared
i'm scared that all my fears will one day come true & surpass our love & Zigzag us away from each other, from our love
our undying love
---------------------------------------

what do you guys and gals think?

i actually did end up adding more to it in fact and fixing even more in fact



Great loves always end. That's their tragedy. If you're lucky you're not the one left alive trying to keep the candle burning amid the howling winds of life. If you're wise you let go when the ending comes.

I've never been wise.
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Das was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich noch merkwürdiger. (What does not kill me makes me stranger.)
ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Posts: 8497


The sleep of reasoner breeds monsters.


« Reply #146 on: September 22, 2020, 07:06:54 AM »

Yes, I wrote a holy scripture for a made-up religion. I may have done it too well since I think if I listed it online, it'd gain followers. 

They could do worse.
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Das was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich noch merkwürdiger. (What does not kill me makes me stranger.)
pennywise37
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« Reply #147 on: October 03, 2020, 07:30:28 PM »

it would be nice if i was lucky enough to have just that a great love. well as for made up religion there already is one and a Science Fiction writer created it on a bet. here's a NEW poem i already posted it elsewhere though


The Love of my LIfe (9-28-20)

you are the love of my life
you are the ode to my poem
you are my melody to a song

you are the love of my life
you are the light of my life
the Light of my soul
you are the happiness to my joy

my heart beats for you
my heart beats for your love
our souls are entwined with each other
our hearts are one and the same

you are my soulmate
you are who i dream of at night
and who i think of when i awaken

each day when i awaken i look up at the sun in the sky and i think of you & the sun seems to get brighter with each and every breath i take

the day seems to brighten up and grow brighter as well
the birds singing, the sky opens up and is clear & your love helps me get through the day at hand

you are my home
you are my love

you are my true love.
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pacman000
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It's root beer & a candy cigar!


« Reply #148 on: November 30, 2020, 09:25:54 AM »

A short article about Master.com, a service which provides search engines, forums, & the like for websites. It's shutting down at the end of the year, & I thought it needed to be memorialized: https://websitering.neocities.org/master/master.htm

Mostly screen shots, with short descriptions. There are some links, so you can try their search engine before Dec. 31.
« Last Edit: November 30, 2020, 09:33:01 AM by pacman000 » Logged
pennywise37
Bad Movie Lover
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Karma: 37
Posts: 769



« Reply #149 on: December 07, 2020, 06:09:01 PM »

  i dunno that one to be honest
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